


must be good to you

by valkyrierising



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, science is sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 11:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13030323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkyrierising/pseuds/valkyrierising
Summary: It started, like all things do, with Richard claiming the latest unexplained phenomena is apophenia. And while yes he has a point, he keeps shooting everything down.It’s starting to piss her off, to be honest.





	must be good to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aja/gifts).



> takes place in some unspecified area right after season 2 and before season 3. i do hope you enjoy it!

“You have to say it,” Richard nuzzles the inside of her thigh. Alex tries to pull him closer to the opening of her cunt, annoyance crawling up her arms as he is able to hold himself back. Strand is deceptively strong, his lean physique holding her down on the table that used to be Howard Strand’s house, now Richard’s. 

 

“First you have to ask a question, then you do background research, and then you construct a hypothesis - can you please just get on to eating me out already?” Strand traces a pattern on her thighs on his shoulders, watching as she squirms in his grasp. 

 

“If you’re not, then we might as well be working,” she huffs out. Strand lets out a laugh, deep and private in a way that she hasn’t heard come from him before. She puts this away in her memory to keep to remind herself of this when he seems lost and confused - after all they’ve been through, it happens a bit more now. 

 

“Okay,” he says and trails kisses up her thighs until he gets to her opening. It’d been a while since she’d been in any relationship really, but she thought about this often, Strand eating her out, during their beginning meeting. It’s probably months of lust built up, tension from forces out of their control, and good old hormones from being in close proximity for someone from weeks on end when you have both been traumatized and also been nursing a particularly nasty crush from the get go. 

 

\- 

 

_ A Half-Hour Ago _

 

It started, like all things do, with Richard claiming the latest unexplained phenomena is apophenia. And while yes he has a point, he keeps shooting everything down. 

 

It’s starting to piss her off, to be honest. Maybe it’s the fact that she hasn’t been able to get a proper night’s sleep in months, or that Nic’s gone to who knows where for weeks on end and the only reason she ever knows where he is is because MK has a GPS tracker on him at all times. 

 

“I  _ am  _ being skeptical, you’re just shooting down everything.”

 

“And you’re allowing yourself to leap ahead to conclusions without substantiated proof.” 

 

She throws her pen down to cut him a look across the desk that’s too big and too fancy; it’s not like her desk in her office, something from Ikea she got with Nic. This one’s a real mahogany table that’d also collected dust since her and Richard made this house ground zero, trying to find anything. She focuses on the wall instead, and getting her annoyance back down and the overwhelming urge to leap across the desk and kiss him. 

 

“You can glare at me all you want, you can’t deny that you have a tendency to leap before you look.” 

 

“Well aren’t we just Mulder and Scully.” 

 

They’re both silent, as she resumes her writing which tends to be her circle the world conspiracy over and over to pointing to different arrows to Elysian cults. Richard puts his hand over her notebook as she’s tapping it absentmindedly, glaring at the wall. 

 

“What’s wrong?”  

 

“Nothing.” 

 

It’s his turn to cut her a look. She’s silent for a bit, wiggling her pen from under his hand to continue tapping. They’re both very stubborn people because they keep this up for two minutes. He’s looking at her as if he can sprout telepathy and take the thoughts of her mind and she’s looking at the wall, hoping he’ll let it drop. 

 

“I feel like we’re both really not in the mood to have our usual almost all-out fights so I’m being quiet.”

 

“Alex, you’re a better journalist than you’ve been these last few months. You got too involved in the conspiracy and let it color your perceptions.” 

 

“What are you gonna do? Force me to learn how to relearn journalism?”    
  


He gives her a look that’s nothing short of judgmental. 

 

“I’d like to see you try,” she says, getting up from the desk. She swipes her travel cup from the desk; never a cup, not from the house that’s now Richard’s but still feels like Howard is going to come back someday to return. Everything put away in boxes as if waiting to be taken out. 

 

Which is how they ended up with the travel cup placed on an open box away from them and Richard Strand kissing her like she’s air, like he’d been waiting to do it as much as she’s been wanting to do it.

 

It’s awkward and a bit like they’re trying to maw each other and she can’t help but laugh hysterically against his mouth, unbuttoning the top of shirt and holding him tight by it. His hands go all under her shirt, stroking up and down and massaging the tops of her breasts before he moves to the back of the bra. He unbuttons the top of her jeans as one of hand goes down her leg as his other gently, as if asking her for permission, going underneath the waistband. It feels too constricting and too itchy against her thighs, her body hyper-aware of Strand’s hands on her, his fingers exploring her. They haven’t even done anything yet and just the fact that he’s already kneeling overwhelms her. 

 

He nips all up and down her thighs, watching as she gently pushes back against him but most nudges him to go further up faster.  

 

“This is me making you be a better journalist. You obviously know the scientific method right?” 

 

“Oh my god, Richard,” she says, with as much toneless affectation she can do before a hysterical laugh bubbles out of her as Richard continues to bite and lick afterward. 

 

“The Scientific Method,” he says look up at her as he pushes her back onto the desk, pushing aside her underwear to let a finger gently prod inside of her, “is where you collect evidence, make a hypothesis, test it and analyze the data and reassess if you must. If the evidence doesn’t align with your hypothesis you have to go back and keep working at it until your evidence isn’t contrary to hypothesis.” 

 

His pace is slow, working up to when he can set a faster rhythm - she hopes. He inserts another one, going from a gently pace to a faster one, working his fingers in deeper than before. 

 

“Richard, please,” she whines. 

 

“Now you say it,” he says, stalling his pace. Instead, he pulls down the rest of her underwear, replaces his fingers with his mouth and sets about tonguing her. She lets out a huff of frustration as his tongue is deeper than where he let his fingers go and infinitely more pleasant. He licks and scrapes teeth against her lightly, her legs jolting at the sensation. He pulls away from her, waiting for her to say something. 

 

She huffs again and tries to use her legs to pull him closer to her. 

 

“The Scientific Method. Get evidence, make a hypothesis, and if the evidence doesn’t support the hypothesis, go back to the beginning.” 

 

“See?” Richard says as he presses back kisses against her thighs. “You’re a good journalist when you remember that instead of letting the conspiracy theories get the better of you.” 

 

“You’re an asshole, you know that right?” 

 

“I’ve been told that many times,” he says in a manner that could maybe be a joke? She thinks she’s hallucinating the whole event until she feels him back at the opening of her cunt and licking broader stripes against her. She pushes his face closer as his arms work more on keeping her legs around his neck, grinding against his mouth. He holds her tighter as her orgasm nears, working his tongue in swirls as she lets out a breathless oh. They still like there for a bit, holding each other closer and stroking parts of each other. 

 


End file.
